


Lucky You're Pretty

by notwisely



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notwisely/pseuds/notwisely
Summary: "He put his number on the wrong order again!" Asahi flips the cup around so Noya can see where the barista has scrawled his phone number and a little smiley face with "call me!" under it. "It happened last week too," Asahi says fretfully. "I think it's because I go at such busy times, of course it's easy to mix up who ordered what, but I feel terrible that he's just going to be waiting and waiting for someone to call."





	

"Oh no, not again." Asahi stares down at the cardboard sleeve on his cup in dismay.

"Hm?" Noya's already chugged half of his blistering hot, black coffee with the casual invincibility of someone who's capable of subsisting off of mostly coffee and adrenaline. He pauses to glance over at Asahi.

"He put his number on the wrong order again!" Asahi flips the cup around so Noya can see where the barista has scrawled his phone number and a little smiley face with " _call me!_ " under it. "It happened last week too," Asahi says fretfully. "I think it's because I go at such busy times, of course it's easy to mix up who ordered what, but I feel terrible that he's just going to be waiting and waiting for someone to call." He frowns and looks over at Noya, half-hoping for a solution. Noya is infinitely more resourceful and clever than Asahi is, which has led to, he will admit, a possibly unrealistic amount of faith in Noya's abilities to fix anything.

Noya, who is staring at Asahi with a baffled, incredulous look on his face.

"Yes, all right, I know! There's nothing we can do." Asahi takes a mournful sip of his mocha.

"It's _hopeless_." Noya mutters, downing the rest of his coffee, which is probably accurate but still seems like a pretty harsh assessment in Asahi's opinion.

*

Asahi's walking out of the classroom when someone jogs up next to him and says, "Asahi-san! Hey!" He manages not to startle and drop his books—Suga would be proud.

"Ah, hi!" He's run into Yume a few times around campus—they're in some of the same required classes, and Yume usually sits next to him in the smaller tutorial section for Analytical Writing. It's nice to be in a class with someone he's familiar with, especially when the lecture starts getting confusing. Asahi tends to put question marks next to places in the notes he doesn't completely understand, and Yume has never laughed at the mess of his papers.

"Hey," Yume says again, uncharacteristically hesitant as she falls into step next to Asahi.

"What's up?" Asahi asks, wracking his brain for the last time he chatted with Yume. Tuesday? Had he said something horribly wrong?

"Ah, well, I was just thinking, you know how we were talking about all the different restaurants around campus?" Yume ducks her head, rubbing at the back of her neck, "Well I was just wondering if you've been thinking of trying any of them?"

"Oh!" A restaurant recommendation! Asahi grins, "Yeah, I actually have a list—well, Noya and I have a list—of all of the different places, and we're going to eat at all of them before the end of the school year. It's got to be _systematic_ ," he makes air quotes, rolling his eyes fondly, "Noya says. We actually came up with a ranking system based on the speed, the quality of food, the general ambiance, and how "awesome" the place is, which I mostly leave up to Noya–" Asahi cuts himself off suddenly as he looks over to Yume, who has an unhappy expression on her face. "Oh god, you just wanted a list, I'm so sorry–"

"No, no, don't worry about it." Yume says hurriedly, still not making eye contact.

"I'm _so_ sorry, I didn't mean to get carried away, I know it's not really interesting, um, here, I'll just–" In a haze of humiliated panic, Asahi rips a page out of the notebook he's carrying and scrawls down the names of some places he vaguely remembers having good food and shoves it at Yume. "Sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Don't worry about it, Asahi-san." Yume says, sighing a little as she takes the paper. Asahi bites down another apology. "Listen, I'll see you in class next Tuesday." Yume pats him on the shoulder then vanishes down the next hallway so quickly Asahi practically hears the _whoosh_. He sighs, but before he can start wallowing his phone buzzes.

_got takeout from #4!!! think we got extra fries so there might be a rankings change in the NEAR FUTURE_

Asahi grins. Arguing with Noya over restaurant rankings isn't really the most exciting Friday night activity, but he can't think of anything else he'd rather be doing.

*

 _Ugh_ , Asahi thinks, pulling _two_ slim boxes of chocolate out from their mailbox, along with the usual stack of university advertisements, volleyball and sports magazines, and envelopes from the endless incomprehensible mailing lists that Noya signs up for. You can't _remove_ yourself from these lists, he keeps telling Noya, but apparently the urge to get a monthly flyer about "The Top On-Campus Alien Sightings! ILLUSTRATED!!" is irresistible.

"Noya!" He yells as he levers the door open with his elbow, " _More_ Valentine's chocolate for you! Also this list of alien sightings." Noya comes barreling down the hallway from his room and Asahi flips the two boxes of chocolate over to him with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He doesn't think Noya needs to look so _excited_ about all these girls falling over themselves to confess to him.

He's being unfair to the girls though—Asahi had stood in front of the chocolate shop for a solid twenty minutes, trying to imagine what would happen if he showed up at home with a box of chocolates of his own. Would Noya laugh? Probably at first. But then what would happen after he realized Asahi was serious? Would he look—shocked, horrified? No, even in his worst-case doomsday scenarios, Asahi can't picture Noya being anything but gently regretful.

" _Yes_ , caramels!" Noya says, now surrounded by wrapping-paper carnage. "I love caramels! Asahi, come have one!"

As Asahi walks over, he spots the note that had been tucked into the box, a crumpled wad of pink paper on the ground. "You're not even going to read it?" He asks, reaching for the paper. He can make out part of it, _behind you in Quantitative Literacy_ , but before he can grab it Noya has snatched it away.

"Nope!" Noya says cheerfully, "Already know what it says. Here, catch." He tosses a chocolate at Asahi's face, and Asahi quickly ducks down to catch it in his mouth. It's odd, he thinks as the caramel melts over his tongue, because Asahi knows Noya's entire schedule and Noya's not in his Quantitative Lit class. It's pretty careless to get something like that mixed up on a confession note, in Asahi's opinion.

*

Asahi doesn't like clubs. He doesn't want to be dramatic, but he might actually _hate_ them, he thinks as he presses a little further back into the corner he's occupying. Noya is out on the dance floor—the brightest thing in the room, Asahi notes wistfully—flitting from person to person in a whirlwind of motion. Asahi is doing his best to hide behind a decorative fern.

"Well hello there," says a voice right next to his ear, and Asahi jumps, nearly toppling the plant next to him. It's another boy, nearly as tall as Asahi but slimmer, with artfully tousled brown hair.

"Uh, hi?" Asahi says, willing his voice not to squeak at the end. _Smile, or you'll look like a serial killer_ , he thinks frantically, and pastes what he hopes is a friendly and non-threatening expression on his face.

"I'm Toma." The boy says, smiling. He's so _close_ , Asahi thinks desperately.

"A-asahi." He mumbles.

"Not enjoying the... atmosphere?" Toma gestures lazily, encompassing the bar, the dance floor, the people doing probably unspeakable things to each other in the dimly lit booths. He looks over at Asahi, commiserating, and Asahi sags a little in relief. Of course, Toma's just looking to get out of the crush of bodies and noise and _heat_. Why else would he have come to this dark corner of the bar?

"No, it's not really my thing." Asahi admits.

"You wanna get out of here?" Toma smirks, raising an eyebrow.

" _God_ yes." Asahi says, tilting his head back to thunk against the wall. "But I'm waiting on a friend, I'm the designated responsible adult for the evening." He nods over to the dance floor where Noya is now in the center of a ring of people, showing off his honestly unfair athletic ability and sense of rhythm. He's gorgeous like this, utterly unselfconscious in a way that Asahi doesn't think he'll ever be.

"Um." Toma looks between Asahi and Noya, some of the smug self-assuredness draining from his posture. He looks much more approachable this way, Asahi thinks.

"You should go, though! Escape while you still can, right?" He smiles.  "You don't have to stick around to keep me company, I'll be okay. This happens a lot."

"Does it now." Toma says flatly. He looks over at Noya one more time, then laughs a little and nods at Asahi. "Well, enjoy the rest of your evening." Asahi smiles back, bemused.

He's pulled out his phone and is using the last dregs of his battery to look at photos of kittens dressed as Pokemon—there are a truly impressive number of Squirtle-cats in the world—when Noya slinks up and tucks himself under Asahi's arm. Asahi tugs him closer and ruffles Noya's sweaty hair.

"Done?" He asks.

"Mmhm." Noya mumbles, leaning harder into Asahi's side.

"Status?"

"Two fancy cocktails, I'm good." He grins up at Asahi and Asahi feels his traitorous heart do a backflip big enough to rival Noya's earlier dance floor stunts. "Let's go home, big guy. We can watch stupid TV and finish your terrible pretentious beer."

"It's good beer!" Asahi protests, letting Noya lead as he winds his way through the crowd towards the exit. Just because Noya is fine with terrible, watery, light stuff doesn't mean their entire household has to be subjected to it.

The cool night air that washes over him as they step outside is a relief, and Asahi lets out a contented sigh as Noya arranges himself so Asahi's arm is draped over his shoulder.

"Sorry," Noya says, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "I know you hate these places. Sometimes I just have to," he gestures vaguely at the air next to his temple, "it's just nice to shut everything down for a bit, y'know?"

"I don't mind." Asahi says, and it's true. Noya never tries to drag him out to dance, something he knows would make Asahi genuinely miserable, and he's perfectly capable of standing in a dark corner for a couple hours. It's the least he could do, Asahi thinks, when Noya has talked him through crisis after crisis, held his hand through class registration and the following panic attack about the gap year messing up his entire educational plan. Asahi's a high-maintenance friend. Noya—Noya's endlessly generous and infinitely loyal, and Asahi doesn't know how he got this lucky.

"Mm." Asahi looks down and finds Noya looking back up at him, a half-smile on his face. "Well, thanks anyway."

*

The credits on Terrace House have finished rolling and his laptop is just displaying the show's Netflix page, but Asahi doesn't want to move. He's warm, nursing a comfortable two-beer buzz, and Noya is curled up into his side. He doesn't want anything more—well, that's a lie, but he's _happy_ like this, Asahi thinks.

"You know," Noya says casually, into the darkness of their living room, "I've been trying to give you space because it seemed like letting you work it out yourself was the right thing to do, but I’m really, _really_ sick of waiting."

"Um," Asahi doesn't have time to even formulate one complete thought in response to this before Noya has flipped over and planted himself firmly straddling Asahi's lap. " _Um_." Asahi says again, more urgently.

"Some girls on the soccer team told me I was being 'painfully obvious' with my pining–"

"What, _who_ –" Asahi interrupts indignantly.

"But I'm beginning to think there's no such thing as too obvious when it comes to you, you _moron_." Noya finishes. He has both his hands braced on Asahi's shoulders, and is looking intently at him. It's like having the full force of a searchlight trained on his face, and Asahi desperately wants to look away, but there's nowhere to look. "So. Can I kiss you?"

 Asahi feels like all his internal organs have melted, his limbs turned to stone, and he _knows_ he's blushing furiously. _Yes,_ he thinks, _yes of course_ , but also _oh my god is this really happening?_ , and idiotically, _does he mean that in a friendly way maybe_ , which he _knows_ the answer to is an unequivocal _no_ , but he can't make himself move or react. Then there's a flicker of uncertainty in Noya's eyes, and the questions and noise in Asahi's head are washed out by a rush of _you're so brave how are you so brave_ and then the single, clear thought: _I love you_.

"Yes," he gasps, "yes, yes please–"

And Noya says, "God, _finally_ ," and doesn't waste any time leaning in.

**Author's Note:**

> my entire Haikyuu Experience has been me muttering "fuck fuck fuck" to myself as i descend further and further into this volleyball pit so it's only fitting that i sat down and wrote this entire thing in one go while putting off all the other work i need to do
> 
> but! i'm on [tumblr](http://not-wisely.tumblr.com/)! come yell about volleyball kids with me !!


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